


When the Moon Fell in Love with the Sun

by mandapandamar



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dungeons & Dragons, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Dungeons & Dragons Character Backstory, Dungeons & Dragons References, Elves, Fluff, M/M, Non-Binary Jean Prouvaire, Nonbinary Character, They're elves. I know., poetry smash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25146685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandapandamar/pseuds/mandapandamar
Summary: Jehan should be sleeping, preparing for their trip to the crown city tomorrow, but instead, they're out on a walk through the woods with Bahorel. Bahorel insisted it couldn't wait until Jehan returned.
Relationships: Bahorel/Jean Prouvaire
Kudos: 3





	When the Moon Fell in Love with the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> I'm well aware this makes zero sense to anyone but myself, but basically, I wrote this to accompany my character when I played D&D as Jehan. I got the idea in my brain and it wouldn't let go, so I wrote this little one-off before our first session. We've shelved that campaign, unfortunately, so I don't even know what happens next but I hope you enjoy this little random piece of fluff!

“Where are we going, Baz?”

“You'll see.”

Two figures made their way down a familiar trail in the woods. The dirt had been tamped down over years of foot travel, beaten by explorers and locals alike. Trees lined the path on either side, extending higher than the eye could see, seemingly vanishing into the Heavens above. The lush canopy blocked out most of the light from the full moon above, and had it not been for the taller of the two holding a lantern, vision would have been impossible. 

Both of these creatures were elves, members of the eladrin clan native to this area, but the similarities stopped there. One was abnormally tall for an elf, about six and a half feet tall. He was stocky, with broad shoulders and defined muscles. His skin had been bronzed by the sun and heavily tattooed with his war stories. His long brown hair was tied back in intricate braids, effectively keeping it out of his angular face. This was Bahorel. Bahorel had been chosen by the elders to be a provider and protector of the village, citing his strength, bravery--though some would call it recklessness--and his heightened fighting skills. All these things earned Bahorel the respect of his fellow villagers, and while some feared meeting him alone at night, others viewed him as a gentle giant. He could be just as warm and kind as he could be cold and savage, and what side people got to see was typically dependent on how they treated him.

One such person who got to see his gentler side was walking beside him, their hand gently intertwined with his. They were much shorter than Bahorel, only coming up to about his shoulder, and much smaller in frame. They were delicate and their skin was fair, speckled with tiny flecks of brown that looked as though the gods themselves had dipped their brushes in pigment and meticulously painted each individual dot on their skin. Their hair seemed crafted of fine strands of the purest copper and was often woven with flowers or adorned with trinkets they found in the woods. Their name was Jehan, and they were as intrepid as they were beautiful. 

Jehan shared a strong bond with nature. Flowers seemed to bloom wherever they walked. Animals that were normally frightened of humanoid creatures were not alarmed in their presence. Jehan frequently attributed this to the idea that animals could sense when someone was kind and of no threat. But the reality was that Jehan was blessed with a potent magical gift, one that they often tried to down-play out of modesty. 

It was this gift that landed Jehan with an incredibly important title. Each decade in their home land of Elestrisia, King Galajen selected five individuals gifted with especially strong magical abilities. Those five were given the title of either a Prince or Princess of Elestrisia, though Jehan preferred to use the term “royal.” These five royals would serve as guardians of the land, each given a special responsibility in the process. Jehan's duty was to reinforce the world, to be sturdy yet gentle, stalwart and forgiving, protective and supportive. It was a tall order, but Jehan could handle it, though they remained a bit nervous.

Jehan was set to depart for the castle the following day. They had an obligation to attend to after ten years, in which they would get to see their fellow royals again. Bahorel was insistent on Jehan meeting him in the woods the night prior, but why, Jehan had no idea.

Bahorel led Jehan through the wood to a clearing. Jehan was familiar with this spot; it was where they had met one another some four years ago, when Jehan happened across an injured Bahorel…

Bahorel's voice brought Jehan out of their thoughts. “Remember the first thing you said to me?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Yes. I told you that you were lucky I'd prepared a healing spell that morning.”

“Otherwise I'd be a goner, yeah.”

“I stand by that,” Jehan chided. “And now I have a healing spell prepared every morning, just in case.”

“See? I helped.” Bahorel smiled and wrapped his arm around Jehan's shoulders. 

The pair gazed around the glade. With the thick canopy of the sequoia gone, the full moon shone brightly and illuminated their surroundings. To the right was a small stream that cut through the wood. Further back, there was a waterfall that one could hear if they were quiet enough. To the left was a small shrine that the ancients must have used; it had long since been overtaken by nature, moss clinging to its stone facade and life sprouting from its base in the form of tiny mushrooms and wild grass. In front of them, more wood extended as far as the eye could see before fading into shadow and mist. The slightest breeze made the grass in the foreground dance. It was peaceful, calm, and Jehan often came out here to write or think. Sometimes Bahorel would come along and provide...certain distractions.

“You were sitting with your feet in the water when I met you,” Bahorel reminisced.

“I was resting; it's a long walk out here and the water soothed any aches I had. My feet weren't so tough back then.”

“Ah, yes. I always forget the spirit of the forest refuses to wear shoes.”

Jehan elbowed their companion in the side lightly, earning a laugh. “Hey,” Bahorel defended, “give me a break! You have to go do important royalty stuff starting tomorrow and I'm gonna be all alone. I have to get my fix in before you go!”

Jehan chuckled. “I'll only be gone a little while.”

“I know. I'm still going to miss you.”

A blush tinted Jehan's usually pale cheeks. “Is that why you've brought me here? So I have a longer trip back home before I leave in the morning?”

“No,” Bahorel said simply, turning to face Jehan. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled, almost nervous. Bahorel never got nervous, so why now?

“I actually brought you here because I have something important I need to give you and it can't wait. I don't want you leaving without it.”

Jehan raised a brow. “Oh? What is it?”

Bahorel let out another anxious breath. He'd been involved with Jehan for a while now and knew as well as anyone that Jehan was a true romantic. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Jehan had planned out their perfect proposal and Bahorel didn't want to fall short of those expectations.

“We've been together for a while now, you and I. And in that time, I like to think we've made each other pretty happy, right?”

Jehan smiled. “Yes.”

“And the other day as you were braiding my hair, you were talking about how the full moon is a really auspicious time, how you had a good feeling about your trip and this moon in general. You mentioned how things are at their peak and it's a time to celebrate, a time to turn your desires into realities.”

Jehan nodded, still smiling as Bahorel took their hands. They were completely clueless as to where Bahorel was going with all of this, but hell if he wasn't fiercely passionate about the whole thing. 

“And I realized something. I realized what I desire more than anything else. What I want. And that's you. All of you. Everything you are and everything you do, I want all of it. I want all of you, the good and the parts you don't like so much, every day, for forever.”

Bahorel sank to a knee, gazing up at Jehan with love in his eyes. “What do you say, Jehan? Will you marry me?”

To say Jehan teared up was an understatement. The entire time Bahorel was speaking, Jehan was blubbering. He'd never been a wordsmith; Bahorel tended to let his actions speak for him in situations such as this. And yet, he put together the most beautiful string of words Jehan had ever heard. Beautiful words that Jehan couldn't have written better if they'd tried.

“Yes, Baz. Yes, of course I'll marry you!”

They wiped their eyes as they caught sight of the ring Bahorel held out. It was delicate and pretty, a golden band with wildflowers etched into the metal. It fit perfectly on their hand, surrounded by druidic symbols and words inked into their skin. Jehan looked at it for only a split second before tugging Bahorel to his feet and pulling him into a kiss. 

As they separated, Bahorel brushed a strand of copper hair from Jehan's face, his eyes fixed on the beauty of his betrothed. “I love you, Jehan.”

“I love you more, Baz.”

Bahorel grinned and scooped Jehan into his arms, carrying them off to a special spot only the two of them knew. They'd have to get up pretty early if Jehan wanted to leave for the castle on time, but deadlines be damned. Tonight was just for them.


End file.
